Ghost Memories
by CUtopia
Summary: To Sir Nicholas, being a ghost isn't as adventurous as he wishes it to be.


Entry for the _Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition_ : Round 10 – Wigtown Wanderers vs Tutshill Tornadoes

 **KEEPER:** Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington (Ghost)

Entry for the _Chocolate Frog Card Club_

(Bronze) Patrick Delaney-Podmore; **Challenge:** Reference to the Headless Hunt in your story.

Entry for _Myths and Legends_ at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

 **Task #4:** Incorporate a Will-o'-the-Wisp and its positive or negative influence into your story.

Entry for the _Greek Mythology Competition_

 **Alke:** Write about a Gryffindor

Entry for the _Gringotts Prompt Bank_

Thanks a lot to Dina, my fellow Wanderer, who betaed this for me! :)

(1920 Words)

* * *

 **Ghost Memories**

Sir Nicholas snorted in anger as he floated through the hallways of Hogwarts castle, passing through students and suits of armour. In his hand he was holding a letter, the one he received as a reply every single year when he'd applied for the Headless Hunt. Sir Patrick still believed that Nicolas wasn't suited for a membership in this club, and the Gryffindor ghost knew perfectly well that he should stop running after them. However, he was often bored in Hogwarts, and a good Headless Hunt could have broken the daily routine of a ghost who had already done everything a ghost could do in a castle.

And so he was holding on to hope, even though he knew beforehand which kind of answer he would receive from Sir Patrick. Despite that, he was always wishing that this time, the reply letter would be formulated differently.

This time, it had been different, but only because Nicholas had made the suggestion that surely someone would be able to completely part his head from the rest of his body with a ghost sword. Needless to say that Sir Patrick didn't agree with him in that point as well.

Floating into the Staff Room, he threw a longing look at the table; the house-elves were currently preparing the tea time for the teachers, and Nicolas felt his ghost stomach rumble at the sight of hot Earl Gray, lemon meringue pie and scones with strawberry marmalade. He could feel the sweetness on his tongue as he stared at the pastries...

And it reminded him of the time when he was still young, and alive, when he'd sat at a table just like this one...

OoO

" _Father," Nicholas carefully addressed the elder man sitting on the other end of the giant mahogany table that filled most of the dining room of the de Mimsy-Porpington estate. His father, who was stirring his tea with a spoon while reading through the newspaper, barely acknowledged that he'd heard his son, but for Nicholas, it was enough to know that he could proceed._

" _I've been hunting yesterday," Nicolas continued after taking a bite from his scone, and his father made an incoherent noise to signal that he was at least trying to listen. "And near the swamp, in the woods, I saw a mysterious phenomenon. Do you happen to know something about strange lights that float around in the air and hover away when you try to approach them? I saw something like that today."_

 _For a moment, the room was silent; then, his father put the newspaper down, slowly, and glared at him over the length of the table._

" _Son, I don't have time for your fantasy-filled stories! It's already enough to put up with that magic of yours! And don't think that you can try and make fun of me just because you have these abilities! I don't want to hear any more of it!"_

 _Nicholas stared at his father in surprise, flabbergasted that he thought that he was making this up. Clearing his throat, he began: "But father..."_

" _Silence," his father interrupted him sharply, slamming his hand onto the table. "No more nonsense, did you understand me?"_

" _Yes, my Lord," Nicholas mumbled and stared into his tea, feeling a little twitch on the inside from this remark._

OoO

Looking back, Nicholas wasn't too surprised that his father hadn't wanted to believe him – he and his mother were Muggles, and Nicholas' magical abilities were something they'd found suspect. When he'd come home from Hogwarts during the holidays and told them about all the whimsical things he was learning, they'd always thought that he was making up at least half of it. For them, magic was something one shouldn't believe in, and they didn't think it to be something powerful. Especially his father had often joked around about it, saying that Nicholas did nothing but wave around with a wooden stick and act as if he had a special talent.

But this mysterious phenomenon hadn't been a product of his fantasy; it had been real, he'd really seen it right in front of his horse. Back then, he hadn't known what it was; not even wizards knew everything about nature and its secrets.

The memory of what he'd done afterwards was still more than vivid in Nicholas' mind, and he thoroughly wished that he could go on such an adventure for one last time in his life. As a ghost, he'd seen everything he could and had gathered all the knowledge there was to gather for him; nothing surprised him anymore.

However, as he remembered this incident hundreds of years ago, it was as if he could feel the faintest echo of the excitement his young self had felt back then...

OoO

 _Nicholas could still recall where he'd seen the mysterious light, and the next day, he decided to investigate it. He was curious, he wanted to know what it was, and he wouldn't back down just because his father didn't believe him._

 _The forest was quiet as he rode through it; except him, no human being seemed to be around. It was late afternoon, the same time around which Nicholas had spotted the light between the trees. Above him, the sky was grey with clouds, and the first traces of fog were visible around the crowns of the trees. Many other people would have turned around now, but not Nicholas. He was a Gryffindor and a young man – at nineteen, adventures were something he would never abstain from._

 _And so he urged his horse onwards, curiosity burning inside of him; upon passing an old tree stump that was overgrown by moss, he knew that he was at the right place._

 _He stopped his horse in the middle of the path and let his gaze wander. Except for a brown bird fluttering away he could see nothing, and especially nothing whimsical._

 _Nicholas didn't know for how long he'd been standing there on the back of his horse, only listening to his own breathing and the sound of the wind moving the leaves of the trees. It was starting to get dark, the fog was getting thicker, and if he was honest with himself, he found the atmosphere quite spooky by now._

 _Maybe he'd really imagined this? What if he'd seen something banal and had thought that it was something extraordinary because he'd desperately wanted to find something interesting?_

 _He just wanted to turn his horse around when the cry of an owl made him jump; his gaze fell onto the path in front of him and suddenly, it was there._

 _There it was, hovering a good meter above the ground, glistening silver and making the fog around it gleam ghostily. It wasn't moving; it nearly seemed as if it was waiting for Nicholas and so he climbed off his horse and took his crossbow from his back, loading it with an arrow before he slowly and cautiously approached the light. His green cloak was dragging over the soil, and leaves were crackling under his feet._

 _Nicholas was only a few steps away from the light as it suddenly started moving – it veered away from him at the same speed he approached it. He tried walking faster, but it only increased its speed as it started vanishing into the undergrowth. Stumbling over roots, he followed the light deeper into the woods, too focussed on his pursuit to notice where it was leading him._

 _He had no idea for how long he'd been walking after the light when it finally stopped, hovering over a big swamp. Nicholas didn't dare to come closer; he remained standing behind a tree, even though there was nothing to hide from. His heart was racing as he watched the light float for a moment, descend, nearly touching the water, before shooting back up._

 _Nicholas gaped in awe as a dozen similar lights broke through the surface of the swamp without rippling the water at all. They all were in different colours, and after a moment of standing still in the air, they formed a perfect circle before starting to dance around each other._

" _Have I gone mad?" Nicholas whispered to himself and blinked a few times, not daring to move at all for fear of disturbing the peace of the moment. It was like a dream, and for some time, he really thought that he was in one; he would never have thought there was something like this in nature, even though magic had taught him that nearly nothing was impossible._

 _Subtly pinching himself, he felt the pain shoot through his arm and realised that this wonder of nature was indeed real. The dance of the lights hypnotised him, made him forget where and who he was… he was lost, and his feet started to move on their own accord; his crossbow fell from his hands and hit the ground before he stepped over it._

 _He only snapped back into reality when he felt the cold and muddy water soak his trousers. Panic was rising inside of him as he felt that his boots were stuck in the morass; the lights had suddenly vanished and darkness surrounded him. Nicholas whimpered and then started to scream in fear, gripping his leg with his hands to try and free his feet. Water sloshed up over his knees and he could feel tears of despair running down his cheeks as he only sank deeper into the swamp the more he struggled._

" _No… no," he gasped, his voice breaking; he didn't want to die, he was too young to leave this world already. He was fighting against the grip of the earth like a lion, he stretched towards the bank of the swamp and clawed on to the root of a big yew tree for his dear life. Nicholas could feel his muscles burn in his arms as he pulled himself out of the swamp, slowly, with a lot of difficulty, but ultimately, he succeeded._

 _Panting hard and feeling as if his heart was about to jump out of his chest, Nicholas was lying on the bank, his clothes wet and muddy. He was shivering, and it took some time before he was able to stand up at all._

 _The very moment he was able to walk again, he started to run away from the swamp as fast as possible._

OoO

Only a week later, Nicholas had found out what the mysterious light was: a will-o-the-wisp, a light that lured travellers off the right path. Hadn't he been so curious, he wouldn't have been in that situation.

Looking back, Nicholas realised that this wasn't one of the most pleasant memories he had of his mortal life; this had been the day on which he'd realised how afraid he was of dying. It had been a close call, and it had led to him being a lot more cautious in his later life, even though it hadn't helped him on that day he'd screwed up a spell which had resulted in his execution.

But still, now that this fear of dying wasn't too important to him anymore, for obvious reasons, he was craving for an adventure like that. It may have been terrifying in the end, but it had been just as exciting.

And therefore, he tried to apply for the Headless Hunt every year, despite the constant rejection. He just wanted to experience an adventure again.


End file.
